


Lost in Act

by Peachbulle



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Acting, Alternate Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-27
Updated: 2015-08-27
Packaged: 2018-04-17 08:34:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4659873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachbulle/pseuds/Peachbulle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the shooting the last scene of S2, nobody can quite pinpoint where is the limit between the characters and their actors</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost in Act

**Author's Note:**

> Alright guys~
> 
> English is not my first language so I apologize for any weird grammar or mistakes.  
> This is my first fanfiction about the fascinating world of Hannibal.  
> 

The lights were hot on the actors’ skins. Once again the scene was taking place in Hannibal’s grandiose house and the atmosphere was full of the smell of sweat and pressure for the last scene of the day. They all wanted to nail for the first try, to go home. Hugh was sweating, his gaze unfocused trying to find anchor into his partner’s hold, not quite able to. He felt being possessively inhabited by Will and despite a light fever and being covered in drops of rain, the latter wanted to stay by his psychiatrist’s side, if only for a few more seconds. It was draining, Hugh could feel his legs shaking badly, a vague notion of loosing himself floating in the middle of his thoughts.

**“You were supposed to leave”** he uttered, somehow managing to contain the “me” that Will had fought to emphasis only to have it hanging in the air. The line had not come out the way he had planned but Will’s hold was far too strong for him to even call out for another try. It felt too weak, too needy for a Will who, he knew, wanted so badly to stay strong and for Hugh who wanted to help him stand in his ground through his interpretation. None of them dared think of looking at the man standing in front of them, instead they let their head loll down, then slightly on the left, jaw clenching to stop the tears they both felt.

But a voice at the back of his mind realistically reminded him that maybe at that moment, facing the one that turned his world upside down, Will’s resolve was nothing like the one he had presented in front of the mirror during the rehearsal. From where he stood at the back of his own mind, watching as his own body moved under the influence of his too strong imagination, he could see Will’s hand reaching for Hannibal, probably not aware that it was all pretence. For the first time his character was initiating contact and Hugh mouth relaxed in the shadow of a smile. He was going off script, but he could definitely allow that. From then on, a tsunami of contradictory feelings submerged him in his own mind, a growing awareness that it could go either way.

Will was using his hands to hold on to the one he thought was Hannibal, crying Hugh’s eyes out in a silent apology. Perhaps he knew that somehow Hannibal would react the same way the scenario indicated Mads he would, because he offered himself like a prey, reducing the space between them, accepting and unafraid.

Trusting, one could argue.

Will was waiting for an answer that should have come already, they knew the scene by heart, there was no way Mads would have forgotten the powerful words that were suppose the follow “We could not leave without you”. Yet no sound filled the room, the crew holding their breath as if involved in a moment that was not their place to be in.

**“Hannibal, please, just go.”** Will pleaded. Hugh let him, claiming for the control of his body only to turn his back to the man. He did not want Will to see Mads in Hannibal’s eyes. He wanted to let him believe. **“I’ll take the fall.”**

Because I betrayed your love, because I know I’m not worthy although I so hard wish to be. Because I love you but I do not know how to do, because you are a murderer and I am so lost. All those concepts flowing into their shared mind, unable to let the words out to savage what was left of both their hearts. So far off the script now that Hugh is surprised nobody called out to them, in a noisy “Watcha doing guys?” that inevitably had Will disappear from Hugh’s soul. Today, though, he was grateful for the silence. Will had finally found his resolve, and he could not help but wanting Bryan to witness this major turn.

**“Don’t.”** The voice was so soft, barely a whisper thrown at the crease of his ear. Both of them shuddered. That moment Hugh knew. He realised it was not Mads, his dear friend, talking.  
At this precise moment, in this made up room for the shooting of that fictional TV show, the two men standing in the middle of cameras were not actor but characters born to life from with a limitless imagination, maybe a hint of personality disorder.

Hugh wondered if his imagination engendering Will had triggered the birth of Hannibal in his partner. Had Will’s endless additions to the scenario awakened something in Mads subconscious? He would never know but could not care less when all he could really do in the little space left for him to exist was to be overflowed with emotion.

A cold hand guided Will into turning to face the one some called a monster. Will was not afraid, and consequently, neither was Hugh. He had already decided that he would give this moment fully to Will, whatever would result from it.

Hannibal’s expression was almost the same as the one Mads had pictured him for the last two years. Full of confidence and fondness, but yet a part of it unreadable. Devoid of the human sparkle that Mads always shining in his light brown orbs. Facing the man for the very first time, yet feeling that they knew each other already, Hugh suddenly felt very aware of the position he was in.

There was no running away, cutting lines or calling for a break. It was the great finale without the restraint of scripts or pre-discussed revelations. The real deal was happening between two men who were supposed to be fictional but in the end were too real. Too close to home for both of their incarnation.

Mads and Hugh, Hannibal and Will, in the end all of them were part of the same show. Unable to be standing on this scene without the help of the other. Maybe it was because they understood that reality that there were able to equally feel each others emotion, even though Hugh wondered what was happening to his friend, trapped in his own mind and for only company a cannibalistic sociopath.

Yet… The same way he had entrusted Will with his body despite him being apparently way too unstable for his own good, he trusted Mads to have confidence in the man he had impersonated for the last couple of years.

**“Will.”** The voice was deep, Hugh could feel the adrenaline run through his veins, he could not reach Will who was the main driver of his body but had he been able to, he would have held his hand to reassure him. The waver of his resolve, the breakable state of his mind, the justice so weak in front of love. **“If you are not by my side, none of this holds meaning.”**

It was not a “I need you”, nor was it an evident confession of undying love. But all of them could experience the strength those words carried, especially coming from someone as private as Hannibal.

One bloody hand came reaching for Will, cupping his cheek in a gesture that would leave an imprint. Hannibal’s thumb slowly wept away the tears that his “friend” unconsciously let free. Precious little drops of water sliding proofs of the dilemma Will was facing.

**“Then I’ll…”** Will started, leaving every silent person in the room and even Hugh hanging to his lips, eager to hear the outcome. **“I will take your word for it”** He said, eyes finally locking with his nemesis. **“I accept you, Hannibal.”** He added in a painfully low voice, managing to draw a single tear of happiness from the cannibal.

A smile stretched Hannibal’s – no, Mads’, lips. Ever so slowly, the closed the last remain of personal space between them, Will tilting his head to the side only to have Hannibal strongly grabbing hold of his hair, pulling him into their first kiss.

_At last_ , he thought, _you are reunited_. Maybe if his body had still been in his possession he would have cried – tears of joy, of let out frustration, of sadness.

Somewhere in Will’s newfound emotional chaos, Hugh felt anything but distressed. To him, it was not only the dangerous killer that devoured his mouth that bothered him, but the physical closeness that reminded him of those numerous times he had shared a fragment of intimacy with Mads.

Never too far, never out of what could be safely named bromance. A little something special that seemed to exist one-sidedly for Hugh without reaching the heart of his friend. Some part of him wished he could be Will and have the one he desired be his, even if only for one minute. To be unique for somebody for whom he felt the strongest yearn he had ever experienced.

**“Let’s go have our first family dinner”** Hannibal said once the kiss broke, still cupping his lover’s face in his hand, barely inches apart, their breath mixing into each others.

Will only nodded, a smile breaking through all the sorrow he had felt during the last year. All the dead forgotten, only Hannibal and him and the touch of their bodies reunited at last two long years of mutual manipulation.

Their will completed, Hugh finally felt the presence diminish in his mind. Slowly, he regained ascendency over his own body, control of his words. He could see in front of him the sparkle make his way back into Mads eyes. It felt good to be in control again, to see his friend come back from the experience without any evident mark of discomfort.

Maybe, just maybe Will being gone left in him a hole, because he was always there when Hugh was acting like a guide, a companion, a barrier for his words to stay lines and not spoken wishes. But the scene was over, and his own imagination came back under control and now he could feel the looks on his back and the silence, oppressing.

**“Well, that was unexpected guys.”** Bran’s voice cut through the silence like a spear, breaking the magic. **“Where did that come from?”** The tone was curious, a faint trace of excitement breaking through.

Hugh was shaking, his legs barely holding him anymore, too hot because of the lights and the overheating of the room, fragile after being submitted by the force of his imagination.

**“We... Uh, I guess…”** Mads were eloquently trying to explain, desperately eyeing Hugh for any kind of assistance. Hugh stubbornly refused, head throbbing, fine, even grateful, with any justification really. **“We kind of, um, yeah, got maybe, uh, possessed by the characters?”**

Bryan arched an eyebrow and Mads smiled hesitantly.

**“I should go.”** Hugh tried to say, words slurred. Unable and unwilling to participate in the conversation. All focus gone, legs pleading for support but obtaining none, the door was his ultimate goal, his escape way. It did not seem far away but his blurred without might have been tricking him.

He was literally a step away when oblivious claimed, for the first time really understanding: How strong Will actually was, how weak he could discuss being.

**“Hugh!”** Mads’ voice, worried

**“The Fuck ?!”** Probably Bryan, or maybe not.

**“Stay with me, don’t go there…”** He loved that voice, this accent. Where was _there_ anyway?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading !!!
> 
> ~I wrote this on a whim, it has not been BETA'd nor has it been proofread. I am so excited about publishing this first work ! I look forward comments and advice !


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